A Familiar Face
by stranger in fiction
Summary: Years after a brief Homecoming date at Riverdale High School, Jughead finds Betty alone in a bar. Alternative Universe. SMUT. Rated MA.
1. Chapter 1

A Familiar Face

I roll the bottom of my whiskey glass on the grimy wooden bar and sigh deeply. Why do I constantly make a mess of something good when I have it; yet another decent waitressing gig gone while waiting for my book to get published. I take another sip of my Jameson cranberry and motion at the bartender for another. He's tall and stocky but knows what to wear to get the most out of the female patrons: form fitting black dress shirt, rolled sleeves just above the elbows to draw attention to his biceps. Whether gesturing to the racks of bottles behind him or cleaning what appears to be an already clean glass, he keeps the attention on his rather large hands, which is definitely working on the co-eds at the other side of the bar. The thing about bartenders, they don't serve you quite as well in bed as they do when their rent depends on it.

I down the rest of my drink and stare at the empty crystal. Nothing like cheap whiskey and self-pity on another shallow Friday night.

Then a hand on my shoulder.

"Betty…Cooper?"

I glance up from my glass to the mirror behind the bar and find a dark-haired hipster-type standing next to my barstool. I sit upright from my sulking at the bar and turn to face, well, a familiar face.

"Juggy?" I smile, surprised.

Jughead Jones. My sophomore year Homecoming date with Bieber hair and a shocking passion for high school band that ended almost immediately as it started. The man in front of me is hardly resembles the same immature boy from high school I once knew. Goodbye baby fat and hello chiseled jawline slightly hid behind his dark facial hair. His thick black glasses hang low on his nose and his green eyes are hidden under his brows, which look down on me from his 6'3'' frame.

"Yeah, I thought that was you," he removes his hand from my shoulder and tucks it in his denim jacket pocket. "What are you doing here?"

"I moved to Chicago a couple years ago, actually. I thought I needed a drink so here I am." I motion at the crowded bar around us.

"Have you ever been here before? I come to O'Riley's all the time and I don't think I've ever seen you here before."

"That's because I've never been here before," I smirk.

"Then I must buy you a drink."

Just then the bartender sets another glass in front of me and asks me if I need anything else; he must be wary of single girls sitting at bars and having men suddenly approach them.

"No, I'm good," I wink at him, "Thank you, though."

He smiles and walks to the other side of the bar to serve a group of rowdy sorority sisters out on "RUM-springer!" according to their homemade, puff paint t-shirts.

Jughead turns up the corner of his mouth and looks down at the sticky bar floor, "So not my best pick-up timing."

"Oh, was that your best?" I scoff before taking a pull from my drink and turning back to the bar.

Jughead casually leans one elbow on the bar and slowly looks over me, from my heeled black boots to my liner rimmed eyes. There was a brief hesitation when his gaze rolled over the top of my exposed breasts in my ribbed tank top, but it was a small hesitation and it wasn't like I didn't welcome it.

"Oh, so then, was that your best?" I return the gaze.

"No, that was me barely trying," he moves in a little closer, "but I'm glad it worked."

I laugh then motion at the empty barstool for him to join me. I square my shoulders and wait for him to sit down. His thick brows raise as he sets his craft bottled beer on the edge of the bar and casually drapes his arm on the back of my barstool. I can smell the faded cologne on his neck and spot the semblance of freckles on his nose under his glasses.

"So, do you want to take this back to my place?" Jughead asks after a couple hours of playing catch up and recanting our hellish high school years.

"I've got nothing better to do." I look at my fourth empty drink and gingerly place it on the bar next to $40 to cover my tab and tip. I glance over at Jughead who takes out his leather billfold from his back jeans pocket and places a couple twenties himself on the bar. I stand up from my barstool, completely aware of how my breasts are now incredibly close to his wandering gaze. I slide out from the row of stools while grabbing my bag and slinging it over my shoulder; standing up, he steps in closer to me as he waves his jacket around my shoulders and I can feel him breath my scent in. I knew I was smart for wearing my Ralph Lauren today.

We walk out the bar onto the busy Chicago sidewalks and start walking, our hands flirting with touching.

"It's not far, I live just a few blocks from here." His hand grazes mine.

"Any unsuspecting roommates I should be aware of?"

"Not in the least, I've got my own place."

We continue down a couple blocks laughing and drunkenly talking our way to his apartment. His eyes keep finding their way towards me and I pretend not to notice, retaining my air of aloofness, like I don't know what going back to his place entails.

"Well, here we are." He motions at the brick building and his eyes look at me questioningly.

I finally take his hand and lean in again, as if to kiss him, but instead, "Let's go up."

The walk up the stairs to the third floor seems to take ages and with each passing moment I'm afraid I'm going to sober up and lose my nerve.

Jughead locates his keys from his pocket and unlocks the door rather quickly, he's as eager as I am. He pushes the door open and leans his back against it, as I walk inside his apartment. It's sparingly furnished, as one would say _minimalist_ , but with vinyl records strewn throughout the place and open books littering every surface. A few band instruments are scattered in a corner with music sheets covering the floor like an area rug.

"Sorry, it's a little messy," he closes the door and flicks the lights on, "I wasn't expect-"

I press my body against his and grab the back of his neck to pull his lips closer to mine. I look up at his eyes one more time and press my wet lips firmly against his warm mouth; we share a passionate kiss before he pulls away and looks at me with those deep green eyes again. Then he smirks and lifts me off my feet to push me against the closed door, so I wrap my legs around him and kiss him again.

I can feel how hard he is through our jeans and roll my hips against his erection to encourage him. His lips trail to my neck and one of his hands releases its tight grip under my thigh and crawls under my shirt to my waist. Not good enough.

While his tongue traces circles on my neck, sending shivers across my skin, I start to pull his hair and his breath and facial hair on my neck drives me insane when he asks, "Do you want to stop?"

I start to suck on his ear lobe then whisper, "No, I want you to fuck me."

He brings me back to my feet and kisses me with more heat than before, so I grab the bottom of his shirt and start to take it off him. His skin is smooth but firm and I graze my fingertips across his bare chest.

"Your turn." He pulls my tank top over my head and smirks at my black lace bra. " _God_."

His mouth focuses on my chest, but his hands start in on my jeans. He quickly unbuttons my pants and forces the zipper down. He pushes my hips against the door and falls to his knees in front of me. He slowly pulls my pants down and looks up at me with a sly smile. I kick off my boots and step out of my jeans, anticipating his touch again.

His fingers begin tracing the hemline on my black panties and I giggle when his touch starts to tickle, but my laugh quickly stops when one of his hands hooks the back of my knee and drapes my leg over his shoulder. I grip the doorknob to keep myself steady when he pulls my panties aside and locks eyes with me as his mouth begins to devour my pussy. His tongue circles my clit, slowly at first, then with more fervor. I feel a familiar desire deep inside me and I'm overcome with a low moan. My fingers lace though my hair while Jughead's cup my breast. I clutch his hand and press it harder into my chest meanwhile his tongue gently presses against my entrance and all I can think about is how I want _more._

"God, Juggy," I pant between breaths, "Jughead, I want all of you."

"Are you sure you don't want more of this," he locks eyes with me and thrusts a finger inside of me. With one hand still on the doorknob, I squeeze his shoulder with my other and relish in the attention his fingers are giving.

"Or do you want more of this?"

His tongue strokes my clit again and I toss my head back, hard, onto the door. I wince, but the pain only adds to my growing excitement.

Jughead pulls his fingers out of my flesh and unhooks my leg from his shoulder; his mouth trails kisses over my mound, to my abdomen, then up to my chest and neck.

"Your turn." I say devilishly.

With nothing but my bra and panties on, I grab his belt and pull him towards the massive leather couch in the middle of the room. I get on my knees in front of him and unfasten his belt, unbutton his jeans, and pull them down. I stroke his erection over his boxer-briefs and tease him with those ' _fuck me'_ eyes I've been giving him all night. I pull his boxers down and take him in my mouth, listening to the small groan escape Jughead's mouth. I start sucking his dick but need more. I glance up at him to make sure he's looking when I start fingering myself and moaning with him in my mouth. His cock slides in and out of my hot, wet lips then his hand grips the back of my head and he lets out another moan.

"Fuck," he breaths, "More."

His strong hands grip my shoulders and pull me to my feet, my legs already feeling weak. He sits down on the couch and grips my wrist tight to pull me on top of him. I straddle him, feeling his hard cock under me, wanting so badly to feel it inside me. I rock my hips back and forth and he makes quick work of my bra, tossing it across the room. The hunger in his eyes intensifies when he grabs my waist and brings my erect nipple in his mouth, sucking and biting on my barbell piercing.

I release myself from his firm arms, stand up, and pull my panties off while watching his bloodthirsty eyes drink me in from head to toe. Painfully slow, I spread my legs over his lap again and hold the back of his head, leaning in to kiss his swollen lips.

I lower myself onto his hard dick, savoring every inch enter my throbbing cunt. I moan loudly and take a sharp breath of air as Jughead watches his cock fill me. I bite my lip with every roll of my hips, taking his dick over and over.

"Ugh, yeah, you like that?" Jughead's husky voice whispers in my ear.

"Yes, yes," my chest heaves, encouraging him to play with my breasts.

I wince with ecstasy when he roughly bites my tight nipples with eager teeth and wet mouth. I moan again and circle my hips around his dick, writhing in desire.

"Lay down." Jughead growls, "On the bed."

I do as I'm told and make my way to the king-size bed in the other room. As I walk through the open door, I glance behind me and see Jughead's toned, naked body saunter towards me. I turn to face him and sit on the bed, then fall backwards with my hair fanning around my head. Jughead looks over my bare body and pushes my knees open, letting my legs fall apart, exposing myself. He grabs my wrists and forcefully holds them above my head, making me even more wet than before.

"What are you waiting for?" I tease playfully.

"How bad do you want it?" he grips my wrists even tighter in one hand while the other handles his stiff.

"So bad," I pout, "I want you so bad."

He thrusts his dick deep inside me, in and out, without hesitation or restraint, causing a wave of pleasure to course through me. I feel my legs start to shake and wrap them around Jughead's waist to bring him in only deeper.

"I'm going to cum," I scream.

"Cum, baby, I want you to cum." He growls, thrusting even faster.

My orgasm builds inside me until it finally releases, and my walls tighten around his dick, making him pump into me forcefully. I scream his name while arching my back, trying to close any gap between our bodies. His mouth falls open and he makes harsh panting sounds against my neck, his breath making aftershocks skitter over my skin. Every muscle in my body loosens as I feel Jughead release inside me; he lets go of my wrists and shifts his weight to one elbow to kiss my naked body one more time before rolling off of me.

"Wow, we did not do that in high school."

I turn to face him, feeling the sweat beading on my forehead. We both laugh and try to catch our breath.

"We most certainly did not."


	2. Chapter 2

A Familiar Face: The Morning After

I wake up engulfed in Jughead's warm sheets with the sun trying to peek through the closed blinds, causing streaks of light to shine on the art-covered walls. Well, not so much art as frames scribbles and sketches all done in graphite pencil.

I stretch out my body and smile to myself at the soreness between my legs and on my wrists. My arm reaches to the other side of the bed and finds it cold and empty, so I roll over and find Jughead is not lying bedside me. My smile fades into disappointment at the all too familiar feeling of being alone, especially in another's bed. Even if I once knew him.

My legs fall to the side of the bed while I gather the loose sheet around my chest and drape it securely around me. My clothes form a trail throughout Jughead's apartment, resembling a shadow of last night's salacious events; I bite my lip at the recollection. Immediately, I start walking around the room to pick up my clothes, so I can get dressed and sneak out before Jughead comes back from wherever he went this morning, but I stop dead in my tracks when I hear running water coming from the bathroom.

He didn't run out of his own apartment. He's just in the shower.

Wearing just his sheet, I tiptoe over to the bathroom door and put my ear against it. He's quietly singing one of the songs from the bar last night on the other side of the door. I lean in a bit closer to decipher the tune, but trip on the end of the sheet and accidentally ram my shoulder into the hard wood of the door.

"Betty?" Jughead's deep voice calls from the shower.

I curse at myself for being so ridiculously uncoordinated at the most inconvenient times.

"Yeah, um," I stammer unconvincingly, "I'm sorry, I didn't know you were in there."

The running water softens, and I hear bare footsteps clapping against the bathroom floor. My grip tightens on the sheet around my chest and I start fluffing my hair before casually leaning an arm against the door frame. Then he opens the door.

His dark hair is falling over his face and is grazing his deep eyes. He's dripping wet causing his skin to glisten in the morning sunshine. He licks his delicious lips before smirking at me with that gorgeous half-smile, I first saw at the bar last night.

"Care to join me, Cooper?" he devilishly grins.

I look up at him with doe eyes and let go of the sheets protecting me, exposing myself to the steam rolling out of the bathroom as well as his hungry gaze. He takes a step toward me and wraps his capable arm around my naked body to draw me closer to him and into the bathroom then his mouth is on my lips as soon as he shuts the door behind us.

He takes the lead and steps into the glass shower holding my hand, enticing me to join him under the pouring water. I step into the shower and Jughead is pushed under the water's warm stream. Catching my breath, I admire the taut muscles in his arms and his confident stature looming over me. His hair begins falling into his face, almost covering his eyes, and drips onto his lips. He scans my naked body and exhales, causing tiny droplets of water to spring from his mouth onto mine and I like my lips to taste him again.

He lets go of my hands to cradle my face and bring me in for a kiss while closing any distance between us.

"I'm going to get you soaking wet." He promises in a husky morning voice.

Just then, he leans against the shower wall and spins me around, so the hot water is cascading down my body. I can feel his erection against my back and want nothing more than him inside me. He has another idea. His lips caress my neck and his hands begin exploring my ready body, his fingers slipping over every inch of skin. A quiet moan escapes my lips when one of his hands grazes my breast to find my nipples, immediately making them hard. While he begins squeezing it in pleasurable pain, his other hand slides down between my legs.

My head falls back on his chest and I whisper his name as his finger rolls up and down my clit. A familiar sensation starts to pool inside me wanting any release. Jughead lightly bites my ear, the precursor to him plunging those capable fingers inside me. They curl around my walls and flirt with my g-spot, making pleasure ripple through my body. With two fingers inside my pussy, his thumb continues to play with my clit in the most delicious way. I bite my lip and turn my head to meet his hungry lips for a kiss. I try to open my eyes under the water to relish the look on his face, only to meet his intense gaze.

"Do you want more, Cooper?" he winks.

I eagerly nod my head and sink into him with every wave of pleasure his fingers are giving me.

Just as I want him to stroke my clit one more time to finally give me sweet release, he slips out of me with a devilish smirk. I feel his knees buckle just a bit and almost waver on my feet if it were not for Jughead's strength holding me tight.

It's the same strength that pushes my shoulders down while his other arm grabs my waist to keep it in place against him. I bend over in front of him bringing my hands to rest on the water nozzle for some support.

"I want it rough, Juggy."

He scoffs with a smile and then grabs a fistful of my wet hair and pulls it just enough to the side, so he can see part of my face.

"Anything you want, baby." He winks.

Jughead's hard cock thrusts into my quivering cunt and my knees almost buckle at the sensational pressure. My ass bounces against his body as he hits me from behind like a wild animal; his mouth hangs partially open and he's gently panting as he watches me almost scream his name.

His engorged dick hits my g-spot making my knees go weak and my screams grow louder, echoing off the shower glass.

With the water pouring and the steam engulfing us, my orgasm comes crashing through me as Jughead keeps pounding into me. After a few more strokes, everything goes still until he immediately pulls out to cum on my lower back, so he can enjoy the view before the water runs it off my body.

I smile wide and straighten up, so I can turn and face him. My breasts rest against his torso and I take in his wet body one more time. His lips are pursed and his gorgeous half-smile shines brightly, causing an aftershock to course through me.

"Is the water hot enough for you, Jones?" I coo.

"Much hotter now," he says as he grabs my ass and I laugh.


	3. Chapter 3

A Familiar Face: First Date

Jughead is the first to leave the shower so I can wash my hair without being constantly interrupted, but he doesn't step out without taking in one more long drink of my wet body. He leans in to kiss me then heads for the bathroom door after wrapping a towel around his slim waist. I watch through the foggy glass as he disappears from the bathroom and I am alone with the hot water flowing over me.

I quickly lather shampoo through my blonde tresses and rinse my hair with Jughead's 2-in-1 conditioner. Without my own loofah, I rub some body wash between my hands and run my hands all over my body to wash off any trace of last night, and I guess just now.

The cabinet under the sink it stock piled with towels and I grab the fluffiest looking one to wrap around my chest. The towel just barely covers my whole body and all of a sudden, I'm overcome with self-consciousness. Last night in the dim bar lights, I felt sexy but pretty tipsy; then, in his apartment, the heat of the moment stirred things up inside me I forgot were there, but what just happened in the shower, I have no idea. All I know is I want to get dressed and get out of here as soon as possible.

I grip the towel around me tightly, take a deep breath, then step out of the bathroom to brave the sunny apartment.

"Hey," Jughead cocks his head, "That was fast."

My lips curl into a smile and I'm frozen in my tracks, yet again. He's pulling on a white t-shirt with red stripes on the sleeves and is wearing dark wash jeans contrasting with his fair skin.

"Good morning," I try to be nonchalant and look for my clothes, "I didn't get to say that earlier."

"No, I think you were busy listening to me in the shower."

"I wasn't listening!" I cross my arms over my chest.

"Of course, you weren't, Cooper." He rolls his eyes teasingly.

I shimmy into my jeans by the front door while carefully keeping my towel tucked around my torso. Jughead walks over to the kitchen and takes his coffee mug from the Keurig and watches me flutter around the room picking up my discarded clothing. I turn away from his peering gaze and put my bra and tank top on, then turn around to see him. I quickly saunter back to the front door and start pulling my black ankle boots back on.

"Jughead it was so nice running into you, but I-"

"Let's get breakfast."

I immediately snap up from bending over to squeeze my shoes to see him leaning against his island counter in the kitchen.

"Don't look so surprised, Cooper," he takes a sup of coffee, "you didn't think I was the type to fuck and forget, did you?"

"No, of course not, I just thought you would be busy or something today."

"Busy? On a Saturday morning?" he laughs to himself, "My only plan today is to take you out. On a real date. Something I should have done back in high school."

"How do you know I'm not doing anything this morning?"

"I don't, I was just hoping you wouldn't and based on how defensive you are, you don't."

I try to hold my ground, but I shrug my shoulder and place my hands on my hips in surrender.

"Fine." I smile, "We'll get breakfast."

After Jughead finishes his coffee, he lends me an old leather jacket and mutters something about lake effect in the mornings, but I think he just wants to see me in his old Serpents leather.

"Shall we?" he extends his hand.

I take it gently and smile at him, acknowledging the softness and warmth of his fingers. He leads me out the doorway and only breaks our touching to shuffle around his pockets for his keys to lock up before descending the stairs.

"Have you tried The Chicago Diner?"

"Can't say that I have because I'm usually not out this way, but I've heard great things."

"Oh, you _have_ to try it. It's a vegan place, but you'll never have a better dairy-free milkshake."

We probably walk five blocks until we reach the little chrome diner sitting comfortably among the towering sky scrapers and busy city streets. He holds the door open for me and I step into the restaurant and feel transported to the 50s with the black and white tile flooring and red vinyl booths and bar stools. It brings me right back to Pop's from high school.

"Wow, this is-"

"Right out of Riverdale, right?" he scans the place for a familiar face.

"Jughead!" An older woman with cherry red lipstick exclaims, "I've got your usual booth open in the back."

"Thanks, Charlene," he waves to her before leading me to the back of the restaurant.

I follow him to a window booth and slide in. A portrait of a young Johnny Cash hangs on the wall along with an old acoustic guitar and printed song lyrics. Jughead is studying me with his arms crossed on the table.

"What?" I ask self-consciously.

"You just fit in really well here."

I look down to smile then return my gaze to his deep green eyes. "I could say the same about you."

"I thought I'd try out my inner Danny Zucco," he runs his hand through his dark hair.

"So, what's good here?"

"Best cinnamon rolls this side of the city, without a doubt."

Charlene comes back and rests a sun spot hand on his shoulder, "The usual?"

"Yeah, country biscuits and gravy." He says confidently.

"I'll try the cinnamon roll, and can I get a side of hash browns?"

"Sure thing, sweetheart. I'll get two waters and some coffee over here stat."

"Sounds great, thanks Charlene."

Charlene scamper off the kitchen window and places our written order on the ticket carousel to get our food started. Very old school.

"So, Betty Cooper, what do I not know about you that I didn't discover last night?"

I immediately blush and start playing with strands of hair from my ponytail.

Jughead laughs and leans back in the booth, "No, I mean from what we talked about at O'Reily's."

"Oh!" my cheeks are still hot, "Well, nothing much really. I went to school for journalism and English after Riverdale High then wound up here to work with some publishing company that ultimately fell through. I don't think I'm going to stay much longer, though?"

"What? Like stay in the city?"

"Yeah, Chicago hasn't exactly worked out for me."

He falls silent for a minute and I can almost see the words flowing through his head on what he wants to say. What does he want to say?

"I think you should give it another try."

"I feel like that's what I've been doing for two years."

"You said last night you've been waitressing, right? Why don't you try working at a book shop and making some connections?"

"I don't know if I can be around books quite yet. My novel was rejected…again."

"Didn't J.K. Rowling get rejected like-"

"A hundred times before Harry Potter was finally published? Yeah, but I'm not the next J.K. Rowling."

"Or Agatha Christie." He says, remembering my novel is a murder mystery.

"Exactly."

"The world doesn't need another Agatha Christie. It needs Betty Cooper."

Just then, our food is placed in front of us and everything we were talking about seems unimportant because all I want is that giant cinnamon bun.

"Wow, that looks amazing," I exclaim.

Jughead doesn't stop looking at me and I can feel his gaze running over me just like last night.

"Yeah, it really does."


	4. Chapter 4

A Familiar Face: The Diner

Just how I remember, Jughead scarfs down his food in under five minutes while I casually sip my coffee with two sugars and try not to feel the blush rising in my cheeks every time I remember the wild ride I went on last night in his apartment.

"So, are you still writing?" I ask once his plate is empty and his eyes don't have that ravenous look in them.

"Yeah," he nods his head, "I'm a columnist for this online paper/blog-thing. It's not really a big deal."

"Not a big deal? Juggy, that's great! I mean, can you imagine saying that when we were in high school? It's a huge deal!"

Jughead smirks at me and leans back, draping an arm over the back of the booth.

"You are and always have been so positive. I don't know how you do it."

"Oh please," I playfully roll my eyes, "Do you think I was sitting alone in that bar last night because I was feeling like a ray of sunshine?"

Jughead leans closer to me and folds his arms on top of the diner table.

"I think you were sitting alone in that bar last night because I was supposed to come in and find you."

"Never really took you for a 'fate' guy."

"You know, normally I'm not, but you don't think it was just a coincidence, do you?"

"I don't know what to think of it. I just know I had a good time."

Jughead raises his eyebrows, " _Just_ a good time?"

The flush I was desperately trying to avoid arises in my face and I bow my head to hide my red cheeks. I haphazardly straighten out my fork and spoon on their napkin and rack my brain for a new topic of conversation.

"How's Jellybean?" I quickly blurt out.

"Oh," he laughs, "You mean JB? She's all angst and nothing like the shy middle schooler she once was. My mom and her run a salvage yard in Toledo, some branch of the Serpents."

A small shiver runs up my spine at the mention of Jughead's old gang; a shiver I thought was stamped out a long time ago. I don't usually spare another thought of days at Riverdale High, but whenever I have writer's block on a quiet Saturday night or walk past a shake shop, sometimes my mind drifts to the "what-ifs". What if I went with Jughead to the drive-in sophomore year? What if I stayed with him a little while longer after the dance? What if he didn't join the Serpents in his father's footsteps and went down a path I simply couldn't follow?

"Do you, um, see them often?" I take a nervous sip of my coffee, "Your family?"

"Not really. After I left the Serpents, there wasn't much to be said between us."

"You're not a Serpent anymore?" I'm dumbfounded.

"I left shortly after high school," he sighs deeply, "It was, uh, complicated."

"I'm sorry, I didn't know."

"How would you? You got out of Riverdale as fast as you could. I don't blame you. That town has had its fill of secrets and mystery."

We sit quietly taking in the ambiance of the diner and try not to apologize to one another about how things turned out. I softly smile to myself at the idea of him wondering the same what-if's I have the past few years.

"I never forgot about you." I finally break.

I immediately regret the words pouring from my mouth when he just looks at me with the same unreadable gaze I've sat across from all morning. He leans in closer to me and seems to be trying to read my face as well despite wearing my heart on my sleeve.

"I didn't stop thinking about you. Not for a day," Jughead says very seriously. Then he leans back in the booth again, "And after last night, I don't think I ever will."

A nervous laugh escapes my throat and I'm suddenly very aware of how loud he is talking and the proximity of everyone around us. Just like that, our little sentimental bubble is shattered but I'm more relieved if anything else.

"Jughead Jones, you really know how to make a girl blush."

"One of my many talents," his lips turn into a devilish grin, "So what are you up to this week?"

"Probably looking at new apartments out of the city."

"So, you were serious about that?"

"Yeah," I painfully admit, "I just don't think I can stay here anymore."

A few seconds pass and Jughead looks deep in thought.

"Do you have a writing portfolio?"

"Somewhere buried on my desk, I'm sure."

"Why don't I introduce you to my editor?"

"You would do that?" I ask incredulously.

After all the rejections letters and emails I received the last time I felt an overwhelming motivation to submit my work to newspapers and journals in the city, I gave up on showing anyone my work. What publications I was successful in stayed hidden in a dusty folder which probably hasn't been touched in a little over a year as my life gave way to serving pretentious couples in Chicago's upscale fusion restaurants.

"If you're any good." He jokes.

"I don't know if I am."

"Betty, why don't I read some of your stuff? That way I can see if you're a good fit in my outlet?"

This idea seems incredibly appealing to him as he pulls out his wallet from his back pocket and throws some cash on the table in a hurry. He springs up from the red vinyl booth and extends a hand towards me, who hasn't moved since the image of someone, let along Jughead Jones, reading my articles was proposed.

"You're serious about this?" I ask tepidly.

The expression on his face is unwavering. I finally roll my eyes and acquiesce.

So I take his hand and we agree to go back to my apartment.


	5. Chapter 5

A Familiar Face: Just Sex

"Wow," Jughead steps into my apartment, "This is a nice place."

I walk in behind him and take a quick look around for anything embarrassing I left out, but the only thing resembling a guilty pleasure is my DVD box set of _Friends_ lying on my coffee table. My green velvet couch stands out in the middle of the room facing the industrial windows with my tv sitting on an old trunk I picked up a thrift shop resting in the corner. My bookshelves are meticulously kept and color coordinated so there's nothing I need to straighten out or hastily put away before he sees. When I first moved here, I had the intention of making Chicago home, so I slowly curated some finer things without thinking of lugging them down the stairs again, at least not for a while.

Jughead starts flipping through my record collection neatly lined up on the shelves and I can relax realizing there isn't a mess to be embarrassed about because my mom instilled in me the importance of cleanliness after years spent in our house in Riverdale.

"Yeah, people who pay thirty bucks for a salad are pretty decent tippers."

"I'd say. So, where's this portfolio?" Jughead turns towards me with great curiosity in his voice.

"Over here," I motion to my desk, "I'll see if I can find it."

I feel him coming closer to me until his musky scent catches my nose and his body heat radiates off him onto my bare shoulders. He's so close I almost forget what I'm looking for until I spot the old manila folder buried under a stack of documents and bills, I've been meaning to sort into their respective categories.

I spin around and start leaning against my desk to put a little space between us in case I'm overcome with a desire to jump him and take him to my bedroom. A desire I'm trying and failing to suppress.

Jughead shakes a hand loose from his jacket pockets and takes the portfolio out of my trembling hands. He notices the small tremor in my grip and rests his other hand on mine to steady me a bit.

"Give me a minute to read some?"

"Yeah," I try to sound casual, "Take your time. I'll just be, changing or something,"

I watch him slowly pace over to my couch and throw himself down with a focused look come over his handsome face; I can't help but marvel at the sight of him in my apartment.

His eyes flicker at me staring from over the sheets of paper so I turn away immediately and go into my bedroom. I'm wearing the same tank top and jeans from yesterday and desperately need to change out of my underwear and bra. I get side tracked by some dirty clothes on the floor and start idly sifting through my laundry and hanging up any clean blouses I left out to dry, while unaware of how much time is passing.

Finally, I pull off everything I'm wearing and toss them in my wicker hamper next to my closet door. I put on black panties and a soft pink bra then start contemplating an outfit that says I'm not trying too hard but I'm also aware of how my butt looks in these pants.

I'm standing in front of my dresser in just my underwear when Jughead taps his knuckles on my bedroom door and opens it. He's still looking at my old articles and doesn't notice the state of undress I'm in right away.

"You wrote about programs to get kids out of gangs?"

Then his eyes raise from the pages and fall on me.

Out of reflex I cross my arms over my cleavage and think how ridiculous it is to be shy in front of my him when he was literally showering with me just hours ago. His eyes don't leave my body and a familiar desire runs through my body.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have shown you that."

"You wrote about getting kids like me out of gang violence," he sets the folder on top of my dresser and takes a step towards me, "I thought you didn't want any part of my life."

I take a step towards him.

"I couldn't save you," my hand rests on his warm cheek, "But I thought maybe I could save others with my writing."

He takes a deep breath and then closes the gap between us. His large hands cup my neck with his thumbs stroking my jaw as he kisses me hard and fast. My backside is leaning against my dresser and I use my palms to lift myself on top of it so I'm sitting with my bare legs wrapped around Jughead's slim waist. His fingers firmly run over my exposed neck and shoulders, down my arms, and back up again to pull my bra straps down.

My hands find the bottom of his shirt and he gets the obvious hint to take it off. A wicked grin flashes across his face as he dips his head into the hollow of my collarbone and begins deliciously kissing my sensitive skin. While he's feverishly kissing the tops of my breasts, I unravel the buttons to his jeans so he's in his grey boxer briefs, leveling the playing field.

"I wish I chose you," he pants between hungry kisses.

"It doesn't matter," I breathe, "You're here now."

I unclasp my bra and let it slide off my body as Jughead bows his head to suck on my hard nipples without missing a beat.

"God, you taste so good."

My fingers wear into his dark hair and encourage every scrape of his teeth and flick of his tongue on my pink peaks. A warm hand slips underneath my panties and I gasp in surprise.

"You're so wet."

I close my eyes and surrender my body over to his addictive touch. I want him more than I've ever wanted anything.

"I want you," I cry out softly.

"I need you so bad," Jughead replies and takes the opportunity to pulls my panties off and toss them over his shoulder.

With his wet tongue trailing over my nipples down to my pussy, I firmly hold my right breast and lightly pinch my barbell piercing and try to slow down my impending orgasm. His tongue plays with my clit and a million electric sensations course through my body like lightning; I don't think it can get better until he plunges his experienced fingers inside of me and turn his gorgeous eyes towards me so he can watch the orgasm come over my face.

"Oh my _god_ ," I yell without taking my eyes off his entrancing gaze.

Jughead stops what he's doing and within moments is licking his lips and pulling his boxers down, so I can see how hard I make him. He wraps an arm around my lower back and pulls to the very edge of the dresser as his thick cock lunges into my wet pussy, then out and in again. With every thrust into me, I can feel the animal inside of him thrashing to get out. I dig my nails into his back and shoulders, relishing in the way his jaw tightens when I scratch him.

"Fuck," He grunts.

My heart is racing in my chest and my nerves ignite into live wires wherever his skin is against mine. I bury my head into the crook of his neck and moan in ecstatic rhythm with every one of his strokes, leaving me almost breathless.

"Don't stop, please don't stop."

My words put him over the edge, and he drills into me faster than before with ragged breaths. Our bodies move as one until we're both writhing in ecstasy and crashing down from the insurmountable high of colliding with one another. He closes his eyes and a satisfied groan laments from his lips to savor his release. We're both frozen trying to steady ourselves and ride out any last waves.

Jughead starts trembling as a wave of aftershocks tightens my walls around his spent dick and he slowly drops his forehead on mine. It's just his eyes on mine and there's nothing else in the world that can spoil this moment.

I sigh deeply and we both laugh at the other for being so out of breath; even with me sitting on top of my dresser, he's still inches taller than me and his bright eyes are shining down on my blushed face.

"Is it just me or does this keep getting better?" he finally smirks.

"It's definitely getting better."

With ease, I slip off the dresser and he holds my hips to steady my naked body against his. We're still entwined and the heat radiating off his skin is intoxicating, but nothing compares to the delicious scent of his cologne and masculine musk. Every fiber of my being wants to be enveloped in his capable, firm arms and stay there all day, drinking in his presence. Part of me knows he wants it too.

"I should probably get dressed."

He lets me slide past him to gingerly step into a new pair of panties and jeans. I'm so focused on getting dressed and not steal a glance at his back muscles, I just throw on a clean t-shirt hoping my nipples won't still be hard in five minutes.

"So, what are you doing on Monday?" Jughead throws into the air lazily.

"Um," _well, probably apartment hunting back in Riverdale,_ "I don't know, I think I'm busy."

"I want to set up a meeting for you with my editor."

 _Absolutely not._ I don't dwell on the idea as he adjusts his clothes and gets properly dressed.

"Jughead, it was so nice of you to offer and I'm truly grateful. I just think if I was supposed to be a writer, I think it would have happened already."

I find a pair of clean socks wadded up in a ball and balance on each foot to slide them on, hoping not to fall over and embarrass myself in front of him.

"Don't be defeated, Betty, that doesn't sound like you."

"I don't think you know exactly what I sound like anymore."

He smiles slyly and folds his arms across his chest.

"You know what I mean," I roll my eyes, "you don't know who I am anymore. I do. I know I'm done with this pipe dream and this city. It's time for me to grow up and go home."

"Go _home?_ To Riverdale? Betty, come on, you may have changed but even you don't want to go back there."

If there's one thing I've learned about myself from the constant rejection letters I've received from numerous papers, journals, magazines, and (dare I say it) blogs in this city, I hate being told not to give up. Just _one_ more assignment. Just _one_ more try. Great writing, but not interested right now. The work is there, it's just not ready yet.

"You don't know what I want."

"I know you have passion, if the last couple days were any indication." He raises a dark eyebrow at me knowingly.

"Jughead, it was just sex." I brush my hair behind my ear, "It was great sex, yes, but that's all it was."

He crosses the room and all look of playfulness is drained from his face as he confidently closes the gap between us and firmly rests his hands on my shoulders.

"Betty, you know it meant more to me than that."

"How? We haven't seen each other in years and the last time we did I distinctly remember us agreeing we weren't right for each other."

His eyes go softer and he rests his forehead against mine despite the cross look on my face.

"You were always right for me; I just didn't know it yet."

A tear begins to well in my eyes and I suppress the urge to fall into his warm embrace.

"You don't get to decide just because I was a good fuck." My voice breaks a little and I feel his hands tighten on my shoulders.

"Betty, that's not- "

"This was fun, Juggy," he smiles just a little at my old nickname for him, but he knows what's coming next, "but I made up my mind a couple weeks ago. Some fun doesn't change that."

The silence is deafening.

I can feel my heartbeat in my chest.

"Okay," he holds onto me just a while longer and I don't want him to let go.

I don't realize how cold my room is until he lets go of my body and the skin where his fingers were feels like ice. I only felt this pain in my chest once, years ago, watching him walk away on that rainy night from everything we could have been, but now I'm walking away from the reminder of what I could have been.

"I can walk you out."

"No, no," his shoulders fall, "you don't have to do that. I, uh, know the way."

"Goodbye, Jughead Jones."

"Goodbye," he pulls me tightly into him and for another moment we're one again as his lips meet mine in a dizzying kiss, "Betty Cooper."

As soon as he kisses me, it's over. I quickly turn around pretending to look for something, so he won't see the tear fall from my eye and be tempted to ask him to stay. I hear his footsteps halt at the door, as if he wants to say something, but then they continue and he leaves my apartment. The loss of his presence is palpable.

I turn and look at the empty door, but it isn't just him that's missing. He took my writing portfolio with him.

 _You just don't know when to give up,_ I smile.


	6. Chapter 6

A Familiar Face: Girl Talk

Come Monday morning, I try not to think what Jughead did with my years of stories, articles, essays, and whatever random bits of writing I used to conjure up whenever inspiration struck me and instead drag myself out of bed to the gym. I toss on some bike shorts and a black sports bra then grab my gym bag with a towel and water bottle I set out the night before to begin my descent to the building's first floor gym.

To my relief there's no one in the room this early in the morning, so I hop on my favorite treadmill under the mounted flat-screen and throw on _Friends_ to watch during my warmup. It takes every ounce of my being not to smile to myself at the thought of my cardio sessions with Jughead this past weekend.

But I do.

 _What could his editor possibly think about my writing I don't already know?_

There's not a chance in hell he would actually find anything of mine worthy of publishing. So far no one else has.

I push myself harder on the treadmill in an attempt to force the Jughead-related thoughts out of my head. For the most part, it works. Next thing I know, an hour goes by and I complete my warm up run and leg circuit with some light cool down stretching. Not bad for a Monday morning.

After I shower back at my place, I sit down unenthusiastically at my desk and stare blankly at my laptop. The little internet tab is staring back at me, as if daring me to Google my hometown Zillow.

I oblige.

Pages and pages of apartment listings in the pacific Northwest Riverdale area are displayed in front of me and I take in a deep breath considering what I'm doing. Besides the bi-weekly calls to my mom, Riverdale Register editor Alice Cooper, I try not to think about the place I grew up; I never had a reason to. Veronica moved to New York with Kevin who became a Broadway stage manager, while Archie pursued his music dreams in Los Angeles. If I ever needed to get out of the Midwest for a long weekend, I would hop on a plane in either direction. I need to call Veronica, she would die for the salacious details about my run-in with Jughead Jones, Riverdale High's former resident bad boy and teenage heartbreaker.

Nothing in the listings jumps out of me. Everything is just, so…suburban. Nothing has the authentic charm of my Chicago place but it's my fault for expecting Riverdale to change. I wonder if Jughead will call me if there's any news.

I click one listing for a newly renovated condominium four blocks from Pop's and flip through the selected images of the interior. It's not bad: vaulted ceiling, in-unit washer and dryer (an improvement from walking to the basement once a week), pet friendly. Maybe I could get a cat. Then again, Jughead might not call me if there's bad news.

I shut my laptop screen and come to terms with myself I'm just pretending to sort things out. He _has_ to call me because he needs to return my damn portfolio, that he stole in the first place. I stand up defiantly and throw myself onto my bed in defeat. I shimmy my iPhone out of my back pocket and call Veronica.

"Betty! Oh my god, hi!" She says excitedly over the electric sounds of New York City surrounding her.

"Hey, V! How's it going?" I roll onto my stomach and prop myself on my elbows like I used to when Veronica and I would FaceTime in college.

"Good as usual, just grabbing a coffee and a bagel on my way to work. Why, what's wrong?"

Veronica graduated salutatorian from Harvard with a degree in macroeconomics and now runs some kind of finance or insurance firm thing she's explained to me a hundred times, but I still can't remember what her job title is. As well as being the CEO of her own company, she's the HBIC of a lifestyle blog under her alias, Monica Posh, which regularly gets featured in _InStyle_ magazine and _Cosmo_. Last year, Victoria Beckham herself said it was her "one source for fashion inspiration" when she's in need of new and upcoming designers.

"What? Nothing? A girl can't call her best friend just to check in?"

"B, you know I love hearing from you, but you wouldn't be calling me at 7 AM on a Monday morning if something wasn't up."

"Fine," I laugh, "you're never going to guess who I ran into this weekend at the bar."

"TAXI!" she screams into the receiver, "Ugh, sorry, this city. Who did you run into?"

"Jughead Jones."

"Shut. Up. Are you serious?"

"As serious as Cheryl campaigning for Prom Queen our senior year."

"Damn. How did he look?" I can practically hear Veronica's signature upturned eyebrow in her questioning.

"He looked," I take a moment to consider my words, "amazing. God, it's like he didn't age a day but at the same time looked so much more mature. He worked the hell out of some jeans Friday night."

"Wait, you saw him Friday night and you're just now telling me?"

"I know, I'm sorry I should have called you as soon as he left."

"He stayed at your place?" She practically gasps.

"He didn't stay at my place, just visited," I try to hide my smile but can't contain the excitement in my voice to let go of every detail I'm clinging to, "After I stayed at his place."

"Betty Cooper, you dirty girl!" Veronica whispers into the phone so her cabby can't hear. "What was he like? Was he good? Was he kinky?"

"Oh my god, V, he was incredible. The first time I was a little tipsy, so I thought it was just a fluke, but the second time, then the third, was earth shattering. And nothing out of the ordinary even though the sex was...extraordinary." I laugh.

"So, are you going to see him again?"

"I don't know, I kind of broke it to him I'm not staying in the area and suggested we chalk it up to a fun weekend."

"Come on, you aren't still serious about moving back home are you?"

"Why not? I can work at the Register or even teach journalism at the high school. Maybe I won't be a writer, but I'm not happy here anymore."

Veronica takes a deep sigh and toys with what to say next; she's always been the best and telling me something between what I want to hear and what I need to hear.

"You do what you think is best for you, Betty. If that means I need to take a plane to Chicago or a train to Riverdale, you know I'll be here for you."

"Thanks, V."

"Anytime," she pauses, "But actually another time because I just got to work. I love you!"

"Love you, too. Bye."

"I want more details later!" Then the line cuts out and I'm alone sitting on my bed again.

I close my eyes for a few minutes and let the silence wash over me before deciding this is not the kind of day I'm going to let consume me. I switch on my Bluetooth speaker and turn on my cleaning playlist before piling my hair into a messy bun.

As I'm about to set in on making my bed, my phone rings from a number I don't recognize.

"Betty Cooper," I state weakly.

"Betty, it's Jughead."


	7. Chapter 7

A Familiar Face: A Celebratory Visit

"You have a lot of nerve stealing my work."

"Technically, I just borrowed it," I can practically hear the sly smile on his face, "And for good reason."

"And what's that?"

"I showed it to my editor and she really wants to speak with you. She said she can really hear your voice through your writing and it's a voice we need to hear."

I try not to gasp in astonishment and excitement. I could kiss him right now.

"Betty? Are you still there?"

"Yes, yes," he can probably hear the smile in my voice, "yes!"

"Okay," he laughs, "so my editor will probably reach out to you tomorrow or sometime in the next week."

"That's incredible. Juggy, thank you."

"I have a better way you can thank me. What about I bring a bottle of wine over tonight and we can celebrate? The two of us."

I hesitate and almost don't even want to respond. I haven't stopped wanting him back in my apartment, back in my couch, but I know we shouldn't see each other again because we just don't want the same things. We shouldn't hook up again because it will just lead to another hook up. We shouldn't work together because it will just drive me nuts sitting at a desk or going over writing assignments with him. We shouldn't even be having this conversation in the first place because I'm moving back to Riverdale.

"How about 8 o'clock?" I question.

"Sounds great."

All of a sudden, I have an urgent need to jump in the shower, shave, and slather perfumed lotion over my entire body.

The hours drag by so I try to run errands and pick up my apartment just to pass the time, but eventually 7:50 flashes across my phone screen and I'm already up to two drinks before he even gets there.

I could feel my heart about to beat out of my chest, so I hastily pour one more glass of pinot grigio to wash away the nerves. Swaying back into the living room, I put on an Otis Redding record and sip from my glass as I take a look around the place.

My couch is made but the comforter is folded at the end because sometimes it gets too hot even with the shades pulled. The new Bath & Body Works candle I picked up earlier today is burning away on my coffee table to give off that sweet, artificial fall air scent in my cramped little apartment. All in all, I think I did an okay job cleaning up the apartment without making it look like I intentionally cleaned up my apartment.

 _Knock, knock, knock._

I down the rest of my wine and set my empty glass on the nightstand. With a deep breath, I straighten my shoulders and go to open the front door.

I squint through the peephole and see his all too familiar face glancing around the hallway. I open the door and try to look as confident as I'm pretending to be.

"Hey Jughead," I smile.

"Hey," his gaze slowly makes its way up from my heels to my eyes, "You look great."

"Thanks, come on in."

He steps into my place and I watch the way his muscles tighten the hem of his shirtsleeves. He dons his usual everyday uniform with a basic tee, jeans, and steel-toe boots but makes it look classic with his disheveled dark brown hair, just long enough to see a curl forming at the end.

"I brought chardonnay, you like white, right?" Jughead gestures to the bottle in his hand.

"I'm more of a blush, but white is great."

He looks around for a place to set the bottle and notices my empty wine glass.

"You start without me?" He smiles jokingly.

I brush some of my hair behind my ear and try to hide the flush rising in my cheeks, the three glasses of wine I had before this isn't helping.

"I'll get you a glass," I go the kitchen and open up the fridge as I hear him kick off his shoes, "Unless you want something else? I have hard cider, White Claw, or vodka?"

"Wine's fine!"

I grab another wine glass off the rack and walk back into the main room to see him holding the open bottle of wine and a full glass for me.

"Thank you," I nod as we trade off glasses so he can pour himself one, too.

I sit down on the couch and hold my legs underneath me, motioning for him to do the same; he sits down next to me and there's something about the way he's looking at me over his wine glass when he takes a sip that makes me nervous, in the best way. All of a sudden, I'm very aware of how close his hand is to resting on my thigh. We get to talking and the next thing I know the entire bottle of wine he brought is empty.

"What do you mean you don't know?" I ask incredulously.

"I don't know, Betty, not a lot of people ask me what I think is attractive about myself!"

"But surely there's something girls have told you they find hot or something."

"I don't think so," he scoffs and runs his hand through the back of his hair.

"That right there!" I exclaim.

"What?" He freezes.

"What you're doing right now! That's attractive."

"Scratching my head?" he looks confused but he's not moving.

"No, it's everything about it. When you do that, your biceps kind of flex and you look up with your eyes because you're tilting your head."

Jughead playfully rolls his eyes and goes back to draping one of his arms over his knee. Meanwhile, I don't want to stop looking at his biceps.

"Alright then, so what do you do?"

"Me?" I laugh, "Nothing."

"So, I have to give an answer, but you don't have to?"

"I'm just saying, I don't wait for a guy to find me attractive and make a move. I'd rather do that on my own."

"Oh, really?"

"Of course." I smile confidently.

He takes the last swig of his wine and takes mine out of my hand with a mischievous grin, then sets the glasses down on the nightstand.

"Try me."

"What?" I scoff.

"I said, try me. Show me your move."

I feel my cheeks growing hot, but I swallow my nerves and decide to let my buzz take over. I bite my lip and lower my eyelids. Confidently, I throw one of my legs over his waist and straddle him with my hands delicately caressing his shoulders. I try not to break eye contact as I straighten my shoulders, so my cleavage is at his eye level, then I lower myself into his lap incredibly aware of his hard-on under his jeans. My fingertips stroke the back of his soft neck and his eyes are a little wide in surprise.

"Is it working?" I whisper so close to his lips I can inhale his cologne.

"Oh, yeah," he sighs as his hands tighten around my waist, his index fingers sliding underneath my shirt.

"Good," I slide my hands from his shoulders down onto his chest and feel his pecs tighten.

I hop off his lap and fall back onto the couch where I was before, "So, it's a good move?"

"Oh, you are evil." He sighs with an ear-to-ear grin.

"Nope, just a tease." I smile wickedly.

"Just a tease?"

Jughead leans in and places a warm hand on the back of my neck. His grip tights and he's pulling me towards him with desire behind his gorgeous blue eyes. At first, I think he's playing the same game and is going to pull away at the last second, but when our lips meet, I feel his stubble brush against my face and the sensation is intoxicating against the softness of his lips.

He gently overpowers me, so I lean back until I'm practically lying down and his arms are on either side of my head to steady himself over me. My fingertips roam his shoulders and biceps, unable to get enough, as is mouth travels down from my lips to my neck, causing a wave of excitement to course through me. Jughead's breath tickles the spot behind my ear as he's kissing me and I let out a soft moan, but he takes it a different way.

He positions himself at my side so one of his hands is free to return the favor mine are doing. He starts at my neck and caresses my skin with his firm fingers. The pressure slides from my collarbone to the top of my breasts and I take a deep breath from the gentleness of it; then his hand falls lower to my abdomen until he's lingering at the waistline of my jeans, stroking my skin back and forth.

I want more.

I pull the bottom of his shirt up for him to take it off and right before his hand is about to dip beneath my jeans, he pulls away.

"I thought you were just a tease?" He grins.

"Not when you feel this good."

"Then in that case," he trails off…

His kisses me again, but this time hungrier and with more force. Before he can continue with where he left off, I sit up and pull my shirt over my head to reveal my see-through black lace bra. I'll show him the matching panties later.

"Wow," he says under his breath, "damn."

"Your turn."

He quickly takes his shirt off and I bite my lip at the sight of his dark chest hair and rippling muscles. I want to touch him so bad, so I reach out and feel his chair hair curl around my fingers.

Jughead dips his head back to my neck and pushes my bra straps down my shoulders. His mouth begins trailing down to my breasts and I'm practically heaving with anticipation until he squeezes my breast and pulls my bra down to expose my bare chest. His tongue flicks against my nipple and I place my hand on the back of his head to encourage him to take off my bra completely; he takes the hint and lightly bites down on me, playing with my piercing in his wet mouth.

"Fuck, Jughead," I moan.

He eagerly switches to my other breast and does the same, but this time his fingers are grazing between my legs over my jeans and I lean into his hand needing to feel his warmth. I lean forward and unhook my bra so he can touch and lick me without anything in between us. He unbuttons my jeans and when I move to take them off, he stops me.

"I want to do it."

I hold my breath as he trails kisses from my hard nipples down to my lower abdomen, this time on the lace trim of my underwear.

He sits back on his knees to grip the top of my jeans tightly and starts to pull them down my body; the hunger in his eyes getting more intense with every tug of my pants. Once they're completely off, he holds one of my legs and starts kissing my inner thigh without taking his eyes off of mine. As he gets closer to my throbbing center, a devilish grin spreads across his face and he lays down on his stomach between my legs. He weaves his arms around my lower body and pulls my panties down just enough.

As soon as his tongue licks my flesh, I moan in desperate need of more. Jughead slips his tongue up and down my folds, teasing my clit with every passing. I start to feel something building deep inside me and I try to be patient as he keeps at it. My muscles start to tense, and I know I'm getting close.

"Does that feel good?"

"God, yes," I sigh, "Don't stop."

He bobs between my legs again and this time he begins sucking on my clit and rolling one of his hands up my body so he can squeeze my breast.

"Fuck," is all I can say as my orgasm builds from within me. I arch my back and feel every nerve inside my body electrify like a livewire as I come from his ravenous touch. His tongue is still sending me on shockwaves when my body relaxes, and I want nothing more than to feel all of him.

"I want all of you." I practically beg him.

He brushes his lips with his thumb and smiles knowing he got me. He gets off my couch and takes off his belt in a hurry before stepping out of his pants; I watch and appreciate the lines of his waist curve as he gets back into couch and kneels next to me in just his boxers.

"Take those off." He commands me, pointing to my panties.

I bite my bottom lip and raise my hips off the sheets to pull my thong down my legs and throw them to the middle of the room. Jughead shakes his head with a sly smile on his face, looking at my naked body up and down, waiting for him to touch me.

The muscles in his shoulders haunch over and look delicious in the dim candlelight, but I'm more intrigued by the way his soft hands slide up my legs, pushing them apart. I hold my breath, trying to steady my pounding chest, but he doesn't mind watching my breasts rise and fall. Jughead pulls down his waistline and his hard cock springs free from his boxers, so both of us are stripped for one another.

"You're so beautiful," His hand falls between my legs and his fingers start playing with my clit, "And so wet."

"You're not so bad yourself," I sigh into his touch.

"Oh, not so bad?" He plunges a finger into me.

Jughead leans over me and supports himself with one arm next to my head. He licks his lips seductively and sucks on my stiff nipples while slipping his fingers in and out of my wet folds.

"Jughead, I-"

"Not yet." He curls his fingers inside me, a climax building, but it's not enough.

"Juggy, please," I pant.

What feels like an eternity goes by of his tongue rolling over my breasts, his breath skimming over my skin, my toes curling from the spell he's casting over my body, but then he finally shifts his weight over me, his body heat radiating off of me.

He thrusts his hard dick deep inside me, in and out, without hesitation or restraint, causing a shockwave to course through me.

"Fuck, Betty, you feel so fucking good."

Jughead pulls out and slowly pushes his cock into me, changing up the rhythm and filling me up with absolute ecstasy. I feel my legs start to shake and wrap them around his waist to bring him in only deeper, trying to close any gap between our bodies. My walls start to tighten around his dick and his jaw goes slack from the extra pressure entwining us.

He pumps into me, with every thrust the metal couch frame lightly groans from the force, and I weave my fingers around the back of his head drawing him in for a kiss. Our lips meet and his pace slows down. I take the opportunity to grab him tighter so I can roll my body on top of his and flip him onto his back.

My lips part from his and my hands release their grip on his hair so I can touch his chest and sit up to straddle him. I rock my hips back and forth, taking in his whole dick, as he watches me intensely then grabs my waist, gentle enough let me go at my own pace, but hard enough to feel dominating. After a few more rolls of my hips, he sits up and wraps his arms around my body to bring my erect nipple in his mouth, sucking and biting on my barbell piercing.

"I'm going to cum," I whisper.

"I want you to cum." He growls, grabbing my hips even harder.

My orgasm builds inside me until it finally releases as I bounce on top of his pole. I moan his name holding onto his shoulders to steady myself from the quaking of my orgasm. His mouth falls open and his staggered panting causes shivers to skitter over my skin. Every muscle in my body loosens as I feel Jughead release inside me, and we lock eyes just to revel in the others' ability to make each other feel this fucking good. I can't help but let out a nervous laugh as we just smile at one another, both of us a little frozen in place wanting to hold onto any aftershocks.

"You were fucking amazing." I whisper, feeling his arms around me one more time.

"You're not so bad yourself." He cocks his head and looks at my mouth.

He kisses me ever so gently and savors the taste of my mouth until I lightly suck on his lower lip. He quietly sighs into the kiss and I'm intoxicated by the warmth and firmness of his body, but I know both of us could catch a breath. I break off the kiss to get up and put my panties back on, all while he studies my movements from couch.

"God, I could watch you do that all night."

"Get dressed?" I laugh.

"No, walk away from me until I ask you to come back here."


End file.
